


The Joker

by sarinoxious



Category: Septic egos, jacksepticeye, jse egos - Fandom
Genre: Gen, Magic, jse community fic, playing cards
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-10-22 20:12:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17669279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarinoxious/pseuds/sarinoxious
Summary: This is my contribution to the JSE community fic: The Magician and Me, started by lucimorningstar812 on Tumblr! Find the project and the rest of the fic at https://projectcommunityfic.tumblr.com/





	The Joker

**Author's Note:**

> This is my contribution to the JSE community fic: The Magician and Me, started by lucimorningstar812 on Tumblr! Find the project and the rest of the fic at https://projectcommunityfic.tumblr.com/

He fell silent for a moment, staring off into the frozen outside world, as he contemplated the card and its possibilities. “I’ve… never used those before. It’s a wildcard, unpredictable in its versatility. It’s dangerous,” he paused, and turned to look you in the eye, “it’s not perfect, but I think it might be our only shot.”

He dug up a deck of cards from one of the dressers in the room. No, not just any deck of cards, _his_ deck of cards. He took out the two jokers and placed them on the floor, face up, before handing the rest of the deck to you in exchange for the grimoire. 

Driven by curiosity, you flicked through his deck. You’d seen some of these cards before but never got the chance to lay eyes upon the deck as a whole. Their backs were beautifully decorated, an intricate design of swirling purple lines pressed into a deep black background. The longer you looked at it, the more details you found. You knew no two backsides are the same, but their differences are so subtle, you would not have been able to spot them on your own.

“Be careful with those,” Marvin commented, barely looking up from the grimoire, “Some of them may still hold remnants of magic.” You heeded the warning and returned the cards to their box, but not before sliding your fingers over their backside once more. You make a mental note to ask him where he got them, although you doubt he’d be able to give you a straight answer.

Your eyes snapped back to Marvin, who seems to have started the enchantment. His fingers dancing and flicking in a hypnotising pattern, purple strands of intangible light stirring at the tips. When he spoke, his sonorous voice resonated through the floor, the foreign words sounding harsh but gentle, both powerful and mellow at the same time. Marvins forehead scrunched up in concentration, his eyelids squeezed shut. The cards on the floor were lifted as green sparks flew around them, a sharp contrast to the magicians purple. The air crackled and thickened, making it hard to breathe, and it tasted like copper, copper from electricity wires, copper from blood. 

Eventually, Marvin let his hands drop to his side as the cards fell to the floor, and he let out an exasperated sigh.

You kept a watchful eye on the cards, now face down on the floor, as you walk up behind him, carefully reaching out and placing your hand on his shoulder. “Did it work?”

He started, and his eyelids jolted open with a sharp inhale. He blinked a couple of times, looked over at the hand on his shoulder, and shot you a questioning look before returning his attention to the cards, warily picking them up. “I think so,” he murmured, still recovering from the rush of magic. He held one out to you, and you carefully took it from his hands. The card seemed to hum in your hands, brimming with fresh magic. It would do you well to treat it like a gun, cocked and loaded and ready to fire. 

Two Jokers. One for him and one for you. Red and black, opposite but equal.

What a morbid coincidence that the Joker is **his** calling card.


End file.
